


Against Better Reason

by loudspeakr



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bisexual!Rhett, Flashbacks, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Past Infidelity, Unrequited Love, in which rhett loves link but he used to love darren and maybe still kind of does maybe?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-07 17:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17370278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudspeakr/pseuds/loudspeakr
Summary: An old familiar face enters Rhett's life once more, rehashing events and feelings he thought he'd long since buried.





	Against Better Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knilttehr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knilttehr/gifts).



> This one's for my darling pal [Elyse](http://twitter.com/rhettmclink). Super sorry it's SO late - can we even really call this a birthday present at this point? - but I really, really hope you like it and that I've done it justice after all this bloody time we've spent talking about it. ONE DAY. It'll happen ONE DAY. ♥
> 
> For everyone else, it's been a little while, hasn't it? This was originally going to be a nice, easy oneshot with a 2k-or-so word count, but then it quickly got out of control in true me fashion. (I'm not even sure yet if it'll end up being two or three parts, but you know what? We'll find out together!)
> 
> Oh, and I promise you don't have to know who Darren is to enjoy this - so here's hoping you do!

It’s not that he wasn’t prepared for this.

Rhett himself approved the idea, so he knows just how long the episode’s been on the cards for. And he hates to admit it, but he might’ve averted his gaze a few times, might’ve changed the course of a few conversations, might’ve left rooms altogether because his whisper of a memory kept making him feel just a little too warm all over.

So yeah, he’s had it memorised – and hastily scrawled into his planner – for the longest time that  _ today _ was the day.

And don’t get it wrong: he’s okay. Sure, looking at him now, it might seem like he’s a little nervous, and yeah, okay, he might be. But he’s completely fine, he’ll swear – it’s going to be fine.

It’s just that, it’s one thing to  _ hear  _ a name, to see it on a piece of paper or up on a whiteboard – but it’s another thing entirely to watch that name walk right through his front door.

Rhett absolutely hates that he’s devolved into this: this nervous wreck of a man hunched over and hiding behind the staircase by his office, in direct line of sight with the lobby and front reception. He’s always prided himself on being a total professional, on setting his nerves and anxiety aside to do his job. But when those golden brown eyes do a casual sweep of the space and miss him completely, it really does feel like he could pass out right now.

It also doesn’t help that his eyesight isn’t so bad that he can’t see just how handsome the guy still is. In fact, he hardly looks any different, nearing a solid decade since they saw each other last. It feels almost unfair, and Rhett touches a hand to his greying beard. Would he even recognise Rhett without his chinstrap, with his new clothes and his new accent? Does he even know Rhett’s here, that this is his domain? No, and Rhett’s kicking himself for thinking it, he probably doesn’t – because most guests don’t have the foresight to look into their own publicity circuits.

But then their guest today isn’t like most. And besides, it’s not like he even knows Rhett by that name anyway.

He’s watching Jenna shake hands in the lobby, sees Ellie and Alex come up to say hi as well. Rhett’s meant to be out there, too, greeting the whole entourage of publicist, personal assistant, and ‘talent’ because that’s how these things usually work.

But he’s not up for that, not now, not by a long shot. So he gets his phone out and types in a quick message to Stevie, throwing in a mention that he’s already dressed and ready, that he’ll come straight to set once he’s done clearing out his inbox. He hits Send and retreats into his office, thankful that Link is still out running one last errand before the taping. He doesn’t need the questions or Link’s keen sense for his discomfort after so many years of knowing him. Now just isn’t the time.

And if it were any other time, he wouldn’t be able to stand being in here alone in the middle of a work day. There are usually heads popping in and out of the door, Link at his back or by his side tapping away at his laptop keys or showing him some report or email or article he’s found. But there are no heads, no Link, near-silence instead. At least some noise would mean they’re busy, they’re focused, they’re working, while quiet means –

Well, quiet means Rhett is alone with his thoughts, which usually wouldn’t be a bad thing at all. But right now?

Right now, Rhett is thinking back to the last time he saw those eyes in the lobby, that mop of dark hair a little longer than it is now, that very same sunbeam of a smile not unlike that of the one he loves in secret now. He’s thinking back to a solo trip into LA back when he was still a North Carolinian so many years ago, visiting an uncle or a cousin, without Jessie or the only son he had then, ending up in some dingy bar late one night without a better place to go.

He remembers the drag of alcohol in his bloodstream, blurring the edges of his vision and weighing down his tongue. He probably should’ve had dinner first, but he wasn’t going to have a burger from the place next-door for the fourth night in a row, and a whole pizza from across town would’ve only gone to waste. His drinks tonight were going to have to sit in an empty stomach, the catalyst for events to come.

All things considered, he only had himself to blame for how things panned out in the end.

Because the next thing he knew, he wasn’t alone anymore.

 

_ He’d stopped counting drinks, something he had never been able to do before in his life, but he was sixty to sixty-three percent sure he’d had at least five… or six,  _ maybe _ seven of them so far. _

_ He was one-hundred percent sure, though, that he would regret this in the morning – because one moment he was sipping on his umpteenth drink of the night, when the next he was trying not to make an ass of himself in front of the cute guy sitting next to him. _

Did I just call him cute?  _ Rhett asked himself, but he waved it away before he could give it any more thought. _

_ “San Francisco, huh?” he said aloud, hoping he sounded more charming than the slur he could hear in his own voice. The guy was clearly at least a good few years his junior, but Rhett had a certain urge to impress him, specifically him, tonight. And if he hadn’t noticed the flash of an ID to the bartender, he  _ might’ve _ felt bad for the questionable thoughts running through his head. “Never been.” _

_ “There’s nowhere like it. The streets, the people.” His company took a long swig from his own drink, ice cubes clinking against the glass. Rhett caught himself being mesmerised by the chunky class ring on his finger. “You should go see it sometime.” _

_ “Maybe. I don’t travel much.” _

_ “Yeah?” And the guy leaned toward him, honey-brown eyes evidently intent on hearing his story. Rhett’s throat went dry at the scrutiny. _

_ “Yeah. I, uh, I’ve been overseas, but I don’t see a lot of other states, really. Aside from where I’m from.” _

_ “And why’s that?” _

_ “Hm?” The question had Rhett sitting up. “What do you mean?” _

_ “Why don’t you travel?” The man took another sip, lending Rhett an easy smile. “There’s lots to see out there, lots to do. Why don’t you go?” _

_ “I can’t just go.” _

_ “Why not?” The smirk on this guy’s face told him he was being baited into something. He took it anyway. _

_ “Because I, uh, work? I’m an engineer, at a big company. I’ve got a mortgage. With bills to pay, and someone at home who needs me, and he wouldn’t, I mean, she wouldn’t,” Rhett huffed, frustrated with his own lack of eloquence. “Look, there’s just no time to –” _

_ “You’re right. There’s no time to  _ not _ go.” The stranger straightened up as well, turning to look at him. The soft intensity on his face had Rhett shrinking in his seat. “And which is it, your wife or your husband?” His eyes flicked down at Rhett’s wedding ring.  _ Busted.

_ He chased the guilt down with another sip of whiskey. “Wife.” _

_ “So who is ‘he’?” The question followed quickly. _

_ “Nobody,” he threw back, and Link’s face dissipated almost as soon as it had appeared in his mind. Cheeks burning, he let his eyes follow the water rings he’d left on the bar in front of him. “Just a slip-up.” _

_ “Right.” The pause in conversation told him his interrogation was over. He tried not to make his relief too obvious. His partner let out a sigh of his own, a tired one instead, stretching his arms outward to expose a hint of bare skin around his middle. “Well, that’s a shame, that you’ve got a wife.” _

_ It had meant to be an off-colour compliment, one that a sober Rhett would’ve let go. In fact, sober Rhett would’ve finished the conversation right there, left his drink on its coaster, and gone back to his room alone. But tonight, sober Rhett was nowhere to be seen, and he found himself murmuring, “She’d let us.” _

_ The man stopped, set down his drink. “She’d –?” _

_ “We have an arrangement.” And maybe later he would let himself feel bad about lying, but for now, he was out of town, feeling the freest he’d ever felt, talking to a  _ cute guy _ who might’ve been showing some interest in him, too. “You’re really pretty.” _

_ “Hey, thanks. You’re kind of pretty yourself, and maybe another night, I’d take you up on that, but,” and the man chuckled. “You’re looking a little drunk right now, and I think I should help get you home safe.” _

_ “Oh.” But as disappointed as he was, Rhett wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t appreciate the man’s offer of kindness. He nodded his agreement and took one last swig of his watered-down whiskey. His first steps away from the bar had him swaying, exhaustion finally settling over him. “Next-door, the motel.” _

_ “All right, man. Let’s go – consider yourself cut off.” _

_ His companion quickly tucked himself under Rhett’s arm, straightening up to support him despite being a whole foot shorter. Completely unfazed by the weight of Rhett’s towering form, he wound an arm snugly around his waist, pulling him in. The close press of their bodies together wasn’t lost on Rhett. _

_ They were almost out the door, with Rhett’s vision beginning to fade in and out, when he heard, “What’s your name, by the way?” _

_ “James,” he answered, his last modicum of common sense kicking in. “You?” _

_ “Darren. Come on, let’s go.” _

* * *

 

A quick glance at his watch tells Rhett he can’t put this off any longer.

The office space outside is empty and quiet as it tends to be when tapings happen, with the majority of the staff coming into the studio to be their live audience. His footsteps seem to echo a little louder in their absence, piercing through the nervous ringing in his ears.

He’s overthinking this, he knows. Darren isn’t going to have a single clue who he is – after all, it’s been almost ten years between who he was and who he is now. Rhett’s older now, more confident, a completely different person – so is Darren, he reminds himself – and he’s going to get through the show, with Link there to help distract them both, and it’s all going to run _so_ smoothly, he’ll be wondering why he was so worried in the first place.

Today won’t even be a blip on the radar.

The set lights are bright in his face when Rhett eventually comes through the Merle door. He squints to see Link and Darren already positioned at the desk, mid-conversation, with Darren’s back towards him. Link’s laughing – genuinely laughing because Rhett can tell the difference – when he spots Rhett over their guest’s shoulder.

“Finally!” he calls, and Darren begins turning to greet him. “Come on, man – we’ve been waitin’!”

And that’s when he sees it, when Darren’s eyes meet his, as clear as day: the briefest flicker of recognition.

Okay. All right. He’s screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, that's not the end. More soon.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Darren Criss's song [_Going Nowhere_](https://open.spotify.com/track/3QbhdS31jkYvO6vEdxcSSg?si=ojWw0WJ6Q-apiTpLFYo9uQ), an absolute fave of mine.
> 
> All the thanks in the world to [Jordan](http://linkslipssinkships.tumblr.com) for being my beta and a cheerleader to my waterboy self. What a bloody gem.
> 
> You'll find me [on Tumblr](http://loudspeakr.tumblr.com) and [on Twitter](http://twitter.com/loud5peakr) talking my face off about something dumb, I'm sure.


End file.
